


Tacenda

by acnemami



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, Don't worry Minho will rescue our lil sunflower, Drama, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Making Love, Newt is out of character in this one my apologies, OOC, Sorry for the pain, Strong Language, The Fluff will come a bit short but hey they are making out come on, minewt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5389739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acnemami/pseuds/acnemami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TACENDA<br/>[ta-cen-da] ;<br/>(n.) things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence.</p><p> </p><p>Purple bruises on porcelain skin and dark shadows under red rimmed eyes - Newt knew how to hide them. Day after day he put on his mask, the happiness fitting him perfectly, the smile fooling successfully. He knew how to keep the masquerade up - but little did he know that masks could crack, too, and Minho risked to look behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tacenda

**Author's Note:**

> My fourth work and I'll be adding some minewt making love so hya yesss! (don't be too mean I'm trying hard and I actually just suck at writing those things so yea it wont be short very detailed :c) 
> 
> Minewt song for this small work: 'With Love' by Christina Grimmie 
> 
> Tell me what you think <333 (Also I hope it's not very confusing but it happened to be a bit different to my other works and past and present will be mixed up to show every angle of Newt's mind and his slight mental illness.)  
> [past and memories are in italic]

_Love can be gentle, such as in the form of sweet butterfly kisses pressed tenderly on smooth skin. Love can be passionate, holding breathless whispers and sincere promises as arms wrap around warm bodies. Love can wear many colours – shaping perfect illusions and pink dreams. Yes, love can be a single flame erupting in dark times, guiding through a maze of blackness, and it can give shelter whenever storms rage, whenever they demolish every hope and felicity._

_But what about the love that destroys? The love that breaks, that hurts? Love may help storms feel softer, but behind the calm there hides a hurricane and it’s stronger, way more harmful, than every small gust of wind that seemed so violent before. Because people change and lovers do, too, and their love captures – builds a cave, poisons and draws in the bitter end in an agonizing length. Love can be deadly – can not only break a heart but a soul._

 

„Newt.“

And now Newt thought about love. About its blooming start, the sweet promises and the kisses that made a gust of butterflies flutter inside his stomach. He thought about the happiness coming with every touch and every honeyed word whispered into his ear – about the tenderness, the affection. He thought about all those lies, blinding him from the very first start.

„Newt?“

The blonde’s mind rattled. There were so many deep whispers inside his mind, telling him about his past over and over again, screaming at him, driving him slowly insane. Because love wasn’t how it presented itself in the beginning. After some time, filled with rosepetals and vanilla kisses, it took off its coat, revealing the ugly truth that laid underneath. The fights, the tears – the violence.

„Newt, are you okay?“

But Newt knew how to cover it up.

„Of course, Minho.“

Minho eyed the blonde critical, not fully believing the bright, sunny smile on his face. „Are you sure? Looked like you had your mind somewhere else.“

But Newt only shook his head like he always did and Minho couldn’t even bring himself to ask further. So he closed the heavy math book, the both boys were currently sticking their noses in, and directed his whole attention to his blond best friend. Golden honey hair a tousled mess but still so tempting soft Minho wanted to bury his fingers inside.

„You know, I think we should really do another movie night tomorrow. It’s been ages!“ the Asian boy drawled in a pleading tone as he batted his dark eyelashes.

„Ya know, I think we should really get this homework done.“ Newt replied while rolling his eyes and opening the book once again.

Minho huffed. „Newt.“

„Yes, Minho?“ the blonde replied, already knowing what his best friend wanted. A yes.

So while Newt was pretending to concentrate only on the tasks of the textbook, Minho closed it for another time, seeking for the attention of the pretty blond. And he was successful because in the next second Newt released a soft sigh and glanced up shyly at the other boy – mocha eyes strangling his voice.

„I- I can’t.“ he answered finally, clear eyes shifting to his now fumbling hands.

„Why not?“ Minho asked, his voice filled with slight disappointment. It broke Newt’s heart to let him down like that again and again – but he had to.

„Ethan, uh, wanted me to go on a … date with him.“ he stammered apologetic, but Minho was already laughing coldly in response.

„Of course Ethan wanted you to go on a date with him. Why do I even ask anymore?“ in only a matter of seconds Minho had turned into his snippy self, his usually so soft expression changing.

„Minho…“ Newt tried to soothe him but the head of black, silky hair shook furiously. The boy stuffed the thick math book into his worn, grey bag and picked up the pencils that were draped across the blue carpet.

„Newt, I’m so sick of this.“ and now their eyes met and Newt felt his stomach churn sickeningly.

„Minho, I-“ he didn’t know what to say anymore. Sometimes he wanted to scream at the black haired boy, wanted to scream that he was afraid – so afraid and broken. He wanted to plead for help. What did he do to deserve all of this? All he ever wanted was love – honest, deep love.

„I am your best friend, Newt.“ Minho said and the blonde couldn’t help but think, ‚shouldn’t a best friend notice the painful, black hole inside my chest?‘ but then those thoughts dissolved inbetween bleary grey whispers as he noticed; not when I hide it away.

„I don’t want to be your distraction when lovely Ethan sometimes doesn’t have the time. I just don’t want to be your plan B anymore.“ Minho eventually uttered, his voice strong but his wide eyes glinting with the sadness from inside his head.

Alarmed as his best friend got up and threw the bag over his broad shoulder, Newt stood up as well, his steps hastily and hurried while he followed him down the stairs to the corridor of his own house.

„What does that mean, Minho?“ the blonde choked out and there was so much fear in his voice, he was scared it would suffocate him.

And then the black haired boy turned around for the last time, facing the other. „That means you can talk to me when our friendship actually means something to you again.“

And Newt just looked at him, at his olive skin and his bright eyes glistening with the sweetest farewell, but there wasn’t a single sound rolling off his tongue. He was silent. And Newt still looked at him when he closed the door and disappeared behind thick wood. Only then the blonde finally allowed himself to start crying, the salty droplets caressing his flushed cheeks, because this wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair of Minho to leave him like that, to reproach their friendship wouldn’t mean anything to Newt when it meant the world to him.

There was a tornado tearing him apart, ripping every last hope into pieces and crushing the weak blonde. He was angry, furious, but still so tired and filled with so much sorrow, his breaths were shaking and barely keeping him alive anymore. And maybe it felt good to finally let the tears escape, but Newt’s mind was spinning in circles and nothing could heave the burden off his shoulders.

He slumped against the wall, his back sliding down as he found himself sitting on the floor – cold tiling pressing against the fabric of his jeans. His dull eyes fixed on a bare spot on the wall and his heart hammered among his chest, every flat thump seeming more useless.

And as the sun sunk, warm colours creeped inside the empty rooms, bathing them in pastels. But Newt didn’t take one look at them, his world only floating in pitch black shreds not even sunlight could paint up.

And when his mother came home from work, Newt still hadn’t moved one inch. So she took her son’s face inside her hands, thumbs caressing red cheeks and dried tears, and made him a tea. Of course she asked him what had happened and what had caused the sadness numbing her son, but Newt had only shook his head in return, his pale streaks whirling softly, and she decided to ask him another time.

But that other time never came and Newt never brought up the courage to tell her on his own.

 

So the days went by, each and every passing painfully slow, and as Newt’s mother wondered why Minho wouldn’t show up anymore, Minho wondered why Newt would smile even though he wasn’t by his side anymore.

 

_Newt learned how to paint his mask a little better as times became tougher. Ethan teached him._

„You do know I’m the only one who loves you, right?“ Ethan murmured, his firm grip on Newt’s hip burning and leaving the slightest marks. But they were all alone and Newt knew he shouldn’t call for help – he started accepting the love that Ethan gave to him. After all it was everything he had left.

„Yes.“ the blonde answered, his voice scratchy.

Ethan then cupped his cheeks, slim fingers digging into smooth skin. „I’ll always be the only one who can love you like this.“ and his lips felt so cold on Newt’s, so odd. Not only his words left a bitter aftertaste on the blonde’s tongue but also his kisses, each and every becoming more unloving from time to time.

_Once Newt had loved Ethan and Ethan had loved him back. Newt had been only sixteen by then, a stranger to love, welcoming it with open arms. Their relationship began sweet like a mixture of jelly and cinnamon and it carried on for two years. Newt couldn’t quite remember the moment when Ethan had changed, or rather said; when his love to Newt had changed, but the difference was enormous. It felt like there was a black speck inside his mind, stopping him from recalling what had gone wrong all along._

„I love you so, Newt.“ Ethan mumbled, his lips now close to Newt’s ear. His hot breath made the blonde boy shiver.

_Ethan’s love had him captured, hauling him in and not letting him go. At first Newt had been blinded, the butterflies and tingles messing with his head, and the time he had spent with his lover had been light, so wonderful and easy. He had been so in love, so in love with the thought of someone loving him._

„Don’t you love me back?“ Ethan asked as he pressed kiss after kiss on the other boy’s neck, covering the delicate skin in affection.

Newt wanted to cry, but he learned to smile instead and so he did – his lips forming a soft smile. „Of course I do.“ he answered, his tongue nearly numb because of all those exhausting lies.

_Sometimes he still believed that he loved Ethan just like he did from the very first start, but other times he knew he didn’t. Because even though this was his first relationship he knew it shouldn’t be that way – it shouldn’t hurt the way it did._

„Say it, Newt. Say that you love me.“

_His mother had told him, to find someone, who would love him dearly. His mother had said, that true love was the most expensive thing in the world and that he should choose wisely whom to love – but it seemed to Newt that he had chosen the first person, who crossed his path and who was just willing to love him back. No concerns, no doubts as he had let Ethan in._

„I love you, Ethan.“

 

_And even though he couldn’t feel the spark people would write about in romance novels, he tried to convince himself that Ethan was right. Ethan loved him and that was everything Newt had ever asked for. Because there were times, where Ethan would lie beside him under tangled sheets, his arms wrapped tightly around Newt’s lean body, holding him, shielding him from the bad. There were times, where Ethan would nuzzle Newt’s honey hair tenderly as if nothing could ever harm him. And only those were the times Newt longed for._

_But as the time went by Newt realized that Ethan’s love could bring different sides, too. Of course fights weren’t uncommon in a relationship, but after the first time Ethan’s hand had slipped, Newt was terrified of those fights. Ethan had promised him it would never happen again, but slowly he realized it turned to his strongest weapon against Newt. Ethan raised his hand several times, hitting, slapping, beating Newt and keeping hold of the blonde that way just too easily._

 

„Ethan, you don't know what you're doing!“ just useless whimpers, helpless attempts.

_Oh, Newt's mother would have cried if she had known and Minho would have probably screamed at the blonde, gaze fierce and burning holes into Newt’s heart. But the blonde had had enough tears, enough of screaming and yelling by now._

„Shut up!“ Ethan shouted, face flushed red with anger.

_Newt had learned a lot about Ethan meantime - about the things, that made him happy and the things, that drove him up the wall. Ethan was a very possessive person, easy to anger and to make jealous._

„Please, Ethan, put that away. You will regret it later, you know it.“ Newt tried again, his voice shaking pathetically. There was a knot inside his throat, the fear lacing it up.

_Newt had learned a lot about Ethan, but how far his anger could push him, surprised and frightened him each time anew._

„I said, shut up!“ Ethan screamed and his bold voice made Newt's blood run cold. He watched as Ethan's fingers curled furiously around the handle of the knife, its blade shimmering dangerously under the gloomy kitchen lights.

_Newt knew Ethan had serious problems but wouldn't he stay, too, if it was Newt instead?_

„You know, I only love you, Ethan. It will always just be you.“ Newt wept and those words only had the purpose of keeping him alive, keeping him safe.

But as Ethan suddenly started striking forward, knife held high, his body ready to attack, Newt couldn’t even bring himself to scream. He stumbled against the kitchen counter, his back pressing into hard marble as his face filled with fear and his eyes squeezed shut tightly. He didn't dare to breath, counted the seconds while his heart was nearly crushing his bones.

Ethan‘s panting seemed to burst his ears, his presence dangerously close, so close Newt swore he could smell the other’s scent just all too clearly.

„Newt.“ it sounded demanding and harsh, making the blonde quiver. He was too scared to open his eyes, the tears prickling against his eyelids.

„Newt, look at me.“ Ethan's voice sounded softer, almost too soft, but Newt obeyed anyway, because that was the only thing that could soothe the other – submission. So he let his eyes flutter open, taking an uncertain look at the taller boy. Broad shoulders towered above him, making him feel small, taking away any chance of shelter. Once this presence had been a home to Newt, strong arms a place to rest and warm chest a pillow for the night.

Still there was no sound leaving his thin lips - too afraid Ethan could dislike it.

„Are you afraid of me, Newt?“ Ethan asked, but, oh, he already knew the answer to that question, Newt was sure.

The blonde shook his head in response, soft locks swirling lightly, but before he could even speak the word ‚no‘, there was a flat hand colliding with the left side of his face, a throbbing pain spreading across his cheek immediately. His face flew to the right, dull eyes focusing on nothing.

„I told you not to lie to me.“

Newt directed his gaze back at Ethan, his green eyes filled with a single storm raging. „I’m sorry.“ he murmured, not even truly believing himself.

„Are you still scared?“ Ethan asked, this time putting the knife back to where it usually belonged and Newt stared at him blankly for a while, before he shook his head another time, a croaked „no“ slipping off his tongue. There were still tears fighting to escape, but Newt didn’t give them any chance to reveal themselves – not in front of Ethan.

„Not only you are afraid, Newt. I’m scared, too!“ and Newt wasn’t sure, what Ethan was talking about – did he mean he was scared of something or was he scared of himself?

„I’m scared you will …– leave me! I’m scared you will love someone else and leave me behind!“ Ethan was nearly screaming and the fear inside of the blonde’s slender body made him tremble and shake. Those were the times Newt was terrified of. Those were the times that held him captured, forbidding him to escape from Ethan’s grasp.

„I won’t leave you, Ethan. I love only you.“ Because Ethan needed him and Newt needed only someone.

 

And sometimes Newt stood in front of the bare mirrors of the restrooms in school and thought about Ethan’s body crushing into his, about Ethan’s hands gripping his waist, about Ethan crying into his neck. His mind filled with memories of Ethan being drunk, his words only slurred sounds and his hands resembling claws. And as Newt looked at himself, his tired and bruised reflexion, there were shouts and blurry pictures drowning his thoughts.

About Ethan crushing bottles. _„Pick it up!“_

About Ethan screaming from the top of his lungs. _„Look at this mess!“_

About Ethan beating him to the ground. _„Ethan, stop!“_

 _Newt’s hands had been clothed in blood, sharp broken glass cutting his ivory skin. The tears streaming down his face, tinting his cheeks a rosy shade, blurring his sight, wetting smooth skin._  
  
_Ethan had yelled at him, his voice as loud as lightning crashing through rooftops and Newt had wept and begged for him to stop._

_„Newt, I love you.“ Ethan had said anyways._

_„Yes, I know. I love you, too.“ Newt had returned._

But as he stood in front of the mirror, his tired eyes looking right back at him, he couldn’t stand to see himself any longer. He wanted to burn every book that contained the slightest bit of love, wanted to rip out the pages of cheesy romance novels, because those were lies – just lies! Disgusting, sickening lies.

His trembling hands kept hold of the sink in front of him, bleary silver looking old and feeling cold against his bare skin. His breathing was only vaguely audible and he felt his heart hammering so hard against his chest and he felt his T-Shirt clinging to his bones, wanting to tear it apart. Every breath he took seemed to be locked up, no chance of beeing free, of feeling free.

He felt himself breaking more and more, crumbling, tumbling, crashing – his bones and ribs only holding a lifeless shell. His white skin was dotted with bruises, purple marks and blue colour, and he gulped thickly, trying to swallow the nasty feeling bubbling inside his throat.

„Newt?“

The blonde spun around hastily, pupils blown wide as he faced Minho, who stood only a few metres away, uneasy expression on his face. Newt felt his insides churn and spin immediately just by looking at his lost best friend. Did he still care? Did he–

Before Newt could finish his thought, there was panic rushing through his veins, his body turning in circles as he searched for his sweater, his only chance to hide away the hurt. He needed to cover up the bruises that painted his skin – before Minho could get a closer look at them.

„Newt–“ Minho tried again while the blonde pulled a blue sweater over his head, honey hair shaggy and tousled, but before he could even let the question slip off his lips, Newt looked at him with a fierce stare.

„This never happened, okay?“ the blonde’s voice was sharp, his anger hiding the fear inside his wide eyes. And his gaze bored into Minho’s – too many weeks had passed, too many time where the both boys hadn’t even been able to look at one another, the guilt and the pride too much to handle, to overcome.

And now they were standing in front of eachother, inside the school’s restrooms, in between silence and cold walls. Newt breathed in and breathed out, the sound just a bit too loud to his ears.

Minho opened his mouth as in an attempt to say something, but Newt was already leaving, pushing past the strong built boy. With his heavy bag clinging to his back the blonde walked down the halls, his feet moving faster and faster, his soles producing soft thumps and his head hanging low, shame not visible to the other students passing his way.

He needed to get away.

Newt squeezed himself through a mass of teenagers, bumping into their bodies, some elbows pressing in his sides, making him grit his teeth. His cold fingers dug into the smooth fabric of his (a bit too long) sleeves as he finally reached the entry of the school, all sounds and voices ignored.

Minho wasn’t supposed to see him like that.

His mind spun but his actions were sure. The blonde left the big building, the cold air greeting him immediately, kissing his cheeks and biting his neck – as if November was his old friend, taking him in and embracing him lovingly. But Newt craved other arms to wrap around him. He wanted those strong arms to enfold his wounded body and fix the cracks with only love – sincere, dedicated, mighty love. He wanted Minho to love him as if he was the only light and hope in a broken world like this.

_He should have been more carefully._

Minho would never love him like this. If he couldn’t love him unharmed, he surely couldn’t love his broken pieces. Who would love purple marks and dried blood?

It had always been a mistake to think about his best friend that way.

 

_„This Minho and you are very close, huh?“ Ethan had said one day, spring kissing their noses as they sat outside on the taller boy’s porch. It had been a good day._

_„Well, yeah, I mean, he’s my best friend.“ Newt had answered, his head slightly dizzy as the words fell from his pink lips. It had been a good time then – no bruises to cover up._

_„Just a best friend though, right?“ Ethan had made sure and Newt had felt his heart inside his throat. Minho had always been important to him – and maybe Newt’s mind had drifted away sometimes by the thought of having the Asian boy close to him._

_„Of course, Ethan.“_

 

Oh, it had been a mistake.

 

_Ethan had kept his eyes on Minho, his jealousy showing off finally after a year by Newt’s side. At first he had just remarked their closeness, but as they seemed to get even closer day by day, Ethan couldn’t handle it anymore. The tough time started, the yelling, the fights, the violence. He had made sure Newt belonged to him, had sugarcoated his actions by telling the blonde he needed him. He had him locked away._

_„I don’t want you to meet him anymore!“ Ethan had yelled, his voice able to crack glass and crash hearts._

_„Ethan– he’s my best friend–“ Newt tried to calm the other, but there was already a hand colliding with his right cheek._

_„Don’t you dare, Newt. I am not stupid.“ Ethan words had been spit out through gritted teeth, their harshness making the blonde’s blood run cold. „Do you really think I can’t see how he looks at you? How you look at him?“_

 

And Newt’s breath hitched inside his throat – only Minho on his mind. He ran down the rocky stairs, students throwing glances at him as he passed them hurriedly. He bumped into a brown haired boy.

„Newt! Hey how are– Is everything okay?“ It was Thomas, one of his only friends left. But even this friendship had been destroyed.

 

_„Is he gonna be your second Minho?“ Ethan had asked._

_„‘Tommy‘“ he had snarled mockingly, jaw clenched._

_„Disgusting.“_

 

Newt pushed past Thomas, trying to get the memories out of his head, their bitter flavor dusting his head. He wanted to scream, he wanted to shout. There was just too much on his mind, too many memories flooding his brain and numbing his senses.

He felt his world tumbling – finally. Finally he saw his walls crushing to the ground, the hope bursting like bubbles in the water. His facade cracked, his mask splitting open, revealing the burning tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. He sucked in shaky breaths, their power not even able to serve his lungs.

 

 _„Come on, Newt, smile for me!“_  
The memories kept coming, blurry and colourful inside his head.

 _„Stop it, Minho.“_  
But this was different. These weren’t thoughts dedicated to Ethan – they belonged only to Minho.

 

Newt ran across the street, leaving the school behind him. His legs seemed unsteady but he kept running, breath heavy and honey hair tousled from the icy wind.

  
_„One day we will leave this town.“ Minho’s bright eyes had held a dark sparkle in them, like sunrays hitting the deep water of the ocean. His jet black hair pressed wetly against his forehead._

_„We?“ Newt had asked, boots drawing circles in a small puddle._

_„I will take you with me. I don’t care how much you’ll whine or scream.“ and Newt had only smiled in return._

  
There were more tears in his eyes, wetting his cheeks and dropping from his chin. Newt reached a small wooded area, its presence only calling forth more memories – oh, sweet memories, soft and warm inside his heart, like a small flame shielding him from the cold of November.

  
_„We should totally live here!“ joy dripping from the boy’s voice as he had stood next to the blonde in front of an old looking treehouse. „We’ll put blankets inside and a big mattress and pillows and buy much food so we can sleep here and don’t have to go home. You won’t have to face home then, Newt.“ Minho had been so excited about his idea, proud grin plastered on his soft face._

_It had been hard days for Newt back then – with his father and mother fighting and screaming loud at night. There had been many tears and shattered glass on the kitchen floor, until his father eventually had packed his things and left._

_„What if it already belongs to someone?“ Newt had returned, but the plan of his best friend had him dreaming._

_„Doesn’t look to me like it. Come on!“_

 

And now Newt stood in front of a small treehouse, the wood old and beginning to become ramshackle – but he loved it anyway.

 

_He had loved it from the very first start, from the moment on, Minho had guided him in the small part of the forest, tender hands covering his eyes._

_„I found it with my dad.“ Minho had said before light finally greeted the blonde’s bright eyes and his gaze flickered to the creaking wooden slats, that hung between green leafs._

_Minho and him had been sitting on the ligneous floor with legs crossed and a small radio playing softly while they talked._

 

  
The wooden ladder creaked a bit under the blonde’s weight as he climbed up the treehouse, head peaking over the rim of the entrance. His eyes fixed on the red radio, that stood on an empty box – a bit of dust covering its surface.

Newt dumped his heavy bag on the creaking floor and sat down next to it, back against the wooden wall. With cold hands he took the radio, slim fingers fiddling with the buttons, when he noticed there were clear fingerprints splattered across the dusty, red colour. Just as if there had been someone listening to music here.

 

_„Minho?“_

_Newt had found his best friend weeks later in the tree house again, sound asleep as the rain dropped from yellow, red and brown leafs._

_„Minho, wake up.“ the blonde had sat down beside the snoring boy, his weight causing a curve in the worn out mattress the other boy had clearly brought there the day before._

_„What?“ it had only been a soft murmur of the Asian boy and Newt had chuckled lightly._

_„Have you been sleeping here the whole night?“ he had asked, amusement clear in his voice as he watched Minho turn around on the mattress, his dark eyes fixated on the blonde, his black hair ruffled and messy._

_„Maybe.“ there had been a goofy, bright smile on his plump lips and Newt had felt the soft flutter of butterflies inside his stomach, scolding himself mentally for their appearance._

 

He looked at the mattress on the floor, old sheets sprawled across its fabric and he could’ve sworn he smelled their familiar scent. But he knew too many years had passed for the homely fragrance to last. Three winters had passed since Newt had been in the small treehouse and now he felt like a stranger inbetween those old wood boards.

The wind whizzed outside, raw branches trembling and blades of grass dancing in the cold. November sang its own bittersweet lullaby as the sun hid behind the horizon and dark clouds floated through the blue of the sky. Newt closed his eyes, tingling fingertips crawling inside the pockets of his hoodie as the cold started becoming more heavy on his lungs. But he didn’t want to move, didn’t want to return to home nor to Ethan’s lousy apartment.

Because for the first time that seemed in forever he felt a little spark of peace settle inside his heart – just for a moment he didn’t have to think about his memories.

 

_„This will be a place where we won’t have to worry.“ Minho had whispered, stars bright and clear above them and their bodies tangled inside warm sheets._

_„We won’t have to think about the mistakes we made.“ Newt had added, voice hushed and breath tickling the other’s ear._

_„Right. This isn’t a place for problems – this is our shelter.“_

 

And when the moon arised, stars following suit, Newt crawled under the frigid sheets that laid on the worn out mattress, his face pressing into cold cloth. But he didn’t care – he didn’t care that his cheeks were tinted red and his fingers nearly numb from the bleakness of November. For once he didn’t care that his mother was probably worried and that Minho had seen his bruises. He didn’t care that he ditched school, that Thomas had perhaps seen him cry. Newt didn’t care about Ethan calling him and bursting his mailbox – he didn’t care about the pain he’ll have to bear for it when he sees Ethan again.

Because this was a place of shelter, this wasn’t a place for problems.

And with the soft sound of boughs rustling he fell asleep, mind clear and empty.

 

_„Newt, wake up.“ a soft voice, warmer than every ray of sunshine tickling his nose._

_„Just five more minutes.“ he had mumbled, golden bangs flopping against his forehead._

_„But I have tea.“ and as those words had fallen from his best friends lips, Newt had peaked in his direction, eyebrows raised as Minho had chuckled lightly._

 

„Newt, wake up.“ it seemed like a dream, mellow bubbles prickling lightly inside his head, making him feel dizzy. A soft voice, so soft – he had to be dreaming.

„Newt.“ the blonde frowned, wrinkles painting on his forehead. He hoped and wished, that he was still fast asleep, that he only imagined the voice of his best friend. But as soon as he felt Minho tenderly running his fingers through Newt’s tousled honey hair, his body stiffened.

He heard a faint sigh. „I know you’re awake.“

Slowly, very slowly, he let his eyes flutter open and his terrified gaze met Minho’s calm one. And as Newt looked at the built boy, he couldn’t help but notice the ache inside his heart – because there he was, Minho, his best friend. And he looked so beautiful in a way that made Newt’s stomach churn – with the way the early rays of sunshine caught in his black hair and made his dark eyes glimmer slightly. And he was so close, but Newt knew he would disappear as soon as he reached out.

„Have you been sleeping here the whole night?“ Minho asked and Newt was surprised by the tenderness and concern filling the boy’s voice.

But there was no sound leaving his lips.

„It’s way too cold for you to stay out here all night! I’ll take you home–“ however before Minho could even move one inch, the blonde was already sitting up, his quivering voice cutting the other boy off.

„No!“ he shouted, uneasy and afraid. „I mean– no, please, I–I want to stay. Please, Minho.“

And as if the slender boy had spoken a spell, Minho froze, his features softening and his eyes finding Newt’s. For a brief moment he looked at Newt and with every second adding the blond grew more unsure, his bright eyes flickering from point to point in fear the other boy could hear the silent cries for help coming through unspoken words only. Maybe Minho could read the scripts Newt’s memory had written, maybe he could see the blood that had already dried but would never fully leave the blond’s body.

„Okay.“ Minho said then, lazy smile on his lips as he slumped down with his back against the wall. And while his best friend looked at him, Newt felt the uncomfortable gurgling inside his stomach growing stronger.

Haltingly he looked at Minho. „You’re–“, he cleared his throat uneasily, „You’re gonna stay here?“

„Am I making you uncomfortable, Newt?“

 

_„Am I making you uncomfortable, Newt?“ Ethan had asked, lips tracing the soft line of Newt’s neck, hot breath dusting his mind._

_„No.“ the blonde had sighed in bliss – fingertips covering every inch of his body._

_It had been his first time back then. His head up in the clouds as Ethan had made love to him, tenderly, lovingly – hauling him in._

_„You’re so beautiful, Newt – so very beautiful.“ soft murmurs, light and fondly against the heat of Newt’s skin, making his mind spin and forget his worries for the split of a second. He had been so wrapped up in the words of his lover – had thought, that if he had Ethan, he wouldn’t have to think about Minho the way he did sometimes._

_But who would’ve known that love happened to be a wheel of fortune and Newt couldn’t bring his hands to turn it for another time – escaping the failure his arrow had landed on._

 

„No.“ he eventually croaked out, trying to get rid of the memories occupying his thoughts yet again. Nervously he fiddled with the soft fabric of the sheets that were draped over his legs, his fingers already hurting from the cold.

But Minho only sighed in return, more heavy, more dejected than in the beginning. „Newt.“ he said and somehow Newt wished there wouldn’t be this caring tone inside his voice, because it only made him feel worse. Minho shouldn’t care about him, he shouldn’t mind, the blonde thought. Because the chance that Minho could cut himself on the sharpness of Newt’s broken soul was too high and Newt couldn’t let that happen – he couldn’t pull the other inside his black hole only because he needed a hand to pull himself out of it.

„I know I shouldn’t have left that day. I– I’m truly sorry.“

And Minho‘s words warmed the blonde’s heart, but still he couldn’t say a single word. His eyes stayed fixated on the meaningless patterns printed on the cold sheets, drawing lines.

So Minho continued. „It just– I was just angry. Ethan kind of took you away from me and I don’t even care about how weird that sounds.“ at this point the Asian boy chuckled silently, breathy and sad. „Gally was even more unbearable without you – can you believe that?“ he looked at the blonde, searched for his eyes, his voice miserably shaking.

Oh, how it tugged at Newt’s broken heart.

„Everyone was asking for you, Newt. Teresa said you distanced yourself – she is very worried.“ Newt gulped at the other’s words, the tears welling up in his eyes, but he didn’t dare to look up. „Ben said it is because of Ethan and I– … I think so, too.“ Minho murmured slightly ashamed as he ducked his head, but the blonde didn’t shoot him a stern look – he didn’t do anything at all.

And now Minho’s voice broke completely. „Newt, please say something.“ he begged, eyes pleading and beautiful.

‚Keep your facade up, Newt, keep up the last pieces you’ve got left‘ he told himself, but as he finally lifted his gaze and saw the glimmer inside his best friend’s deep brown eyes, sadness drowning the sweet mocha colour, he felt his mask split open. Invisible cracks painted his skin as the tears eventually found their way out. Wet running down his flushed cheeks, dripping from his chin, dotting the sheets that were curled inside his cold fingers.

And it didn’t take Minho one second to wrap the blonde up into his arms, holding Newt close, finally making their bodies collide. The slender figure inside his embrace shook violently as one heartbreaking sob after the other ripped through Newt’s too tight chest. He wept bitter tears, salty droplets feeling hot compared to the cold that sang softly outside the small treehouse.

„What happened?“ Minho’s voice was quiet suddenly, only a hoarse whisper hushed into the golden streaks of Newt’s hair. But the blonde couldn’t answer. ‚Too much – oh, way too much had happened‘ he thought.

„What did he do to you?“ Newt’s trembling fingers took hold of Minho’s sweater and he couldn’t stop – he just couldn’t stop crying, he couldn’t stop falling apart. And he was sure, Minho just knew. He had seen the bruises on Newt‘s skin and Newt was wondering why Minho would still hold him inside his arms.

„Minho–“ he choked on his words, not able to form a normal sentence because of the emptiness filling him and the tears soaking his senses.

But Minho only held him closer, holding him so tightly that November had no chance of making the shaking boy freeze. „It’s okay, Newt. I’ve got you.“ he reassured, one hand cupping the back of the boy’s head as the other rubbed soothing circles on his back.

„I don’t– I don’t wanna go back, Minho. I– I wanna stay here. Stay here, Minho.“ Newt wept miserably.

 

_„We don’t have to go back.“ Minho had said as he had sat next to his blonde best friend, their legs crossed, knees touching slightly._

_„Never?“ Newt had asked, eyes gleaming with tears._

_„Well, we would have to eat something sooner or later, but you can just eat at my home.“ The boy had smiled as he saw the gleam slowly disappearing inside his friend’s bright eyes._

_„Can– can your mom cook pasta again?“ Newt had questioned and Minho had only nodded while a soft chuckle had made his chest vibrate slightly._

  
„Of course.“ Minho uttered.

And he just kept holding him. Newt was buried inside his best friends arms – his sobs dying down. Only silent tears crept down his cheeks and with the silence passing, the wetness slowly began to dry, leaving only a cold trail on the blonde’s skin.

Somehow it seemed peaceful. There were no words and even though the sadness was clearly hovering above their heads, they could feel their hearts dripping with contentment – pleased to feel the other so close after too many weeks.

„I miss you.“ and as those words rolled down Minho’s tongue, Newt just breathed in and out, nose pressed into the crook of his best friend’s neck. „I miss the times when we were okay.“

Newt felt the urge to cry again, but it seemed as if he had already shed every tear.

„I’m sorry – this is so cheesy.“ Minho laughed quietly, his chest bumping softly into Newt’s.

And finally the blonde spoke, his voice hoarse, his throat sore. „I miss you, too.“ he said, nearly whispering, but Minho heard it anyway.

Newt knew Minho wasn’t someone to say great words when they were needed nor did he know how to show affection when he cared for someone dearly. But somehow it always seemed to work just good enough for Newt – because right now Minho held him, right now Minho whispered softly and gently.

„Come on, let’s warm you up and drink some tea.“

And right now Newt’s savior shined and glowed in the light of the midday sun, his breath hot in the cold and his hands tender on Newt’s skin.

 

So the two boys walked together, their shoes carrying them over sticks and stones, dirt and mud. Their fingers were entangled, but it was okay and it felt good that way, and the sun kissed their faces, unraveled the mess inside their heads.

 

_„Do you believe in monsters?“ Newt had asked as he had hid his face behind the printed fabric of a blanket._

_Minho had laughed. „No.“ a shook of his head had followed._

_„Why not?“ Newt’s eyes had been wide with astonishment._

_„My mom said that monsters are only an illusion of what we fear the most.“_

_A pout. „But spiders are real. They are not an illusion.“_

 

And soon they reached the streets that led to Minho’s house. Newt wasn’t sure how to feel and his stomach growled and spun. It had been weeks since he had last been at Minho’s place and even though it had always been a second home to him, he wasn’t sure what to think as he entered the house.

„Do you want fresh clothes? Anything?“ Minho asked, eyeing Newt from head to toe. „I mean, I guess because you, uh, had a tough night and I just, uh–“ his dark eyes flickered hastily to Newt’s.

„That‘d be … nice, yeah.“ he murmured. Somehow he wasn’t sure what exactly caused the awkwardness between them – was it because they had been holding hands only a few moments ago?

„You can take a shower if you want and I’ll … I’ll make some tea?“

Newt nodded, trying to form just a small smile this time. „Sounds good to me.“

And Minho smiled back. „Okay.“ his eyes flew to Newt’s bag. „Let me just –“ carefully he took it from the blonde, „–take that.“

„Thank you.“

„You can take as much time as you want, okay? My parents won’t come back before 8 – so, the bathroom is all yours and you know where to find my clothes.“ a light chuckle left Minho’s lips and Newt’s smile grew a bit wider.

 

_„Are you wearing my shirt?“ Minho had asked, an amused grin playing on his lips as he had looked sleepily at his blonde best friend, who had stood in the doorframe to the bathroom._

_„I’m not?“ Newt had responded slightly irritated, but when he had looked down, he couldn’t help the blush creeping up his neck. „Oops?“_

_„Don’t worry – it looks good on you.“ Minho had been greeted by a pillow thrown into his face._

 

And then Newt turned around. With silent steps and soft thumps he climed the staircase that led straight to the bathroom of the Park's household. His fingers traced the ebony handrail and it felt all too familiar once again.

 

_„We have to be quiet, okay?" Minho had pressed his index finger to his lips and his eyes had glowed in the gloomy flash that came from the tv out of the living room._

_Newt had only nodded, lips shut tight._

_It had been a stupid idea to leave Minho's room late at night to get the fresh baked cookies from his mom. They should have known that as soon as they started to take a few steps down the stairs, floorboards creaking under their weight, Minho's father had already noticed. But at least Minho had been hoarding some gummy bears inside his drawer._

 

The blonde smiled, soft and sly. The door to the bathroom was still painted white and even the trails Newt and Minho had left once (they had actually thought it would be a good idea to ‚decorate the boring white door‘ with crayons) were still slightly visible. Nothing had changed - not even in two years - and Newt felt himself loosen up.

His mind was fuzzy – filled with dim memories and blurred whispers. The door creaked lightly as he swung it open and with a soft click he closed it again afterwards. After some silent seconds his sweater fell to the ground, into the litheness of the white carpet. He didn’t feel cold, but there were goosebumps covering his bare arms.

Next followed the big T-Shirt that laid underneath, revealing every inch of naked skin of his torso, but he didn’t dare to glance at the purple and blue bruises splattered across his chest and wrists.

Soon his jeans sunk to the ground, the sound of the belt the only thing to be heard, and his underwear followed right after. A nasty feeling of vulnerability bubbled quietly inside his stomach, but this time there was no reason to pay it a mind. So he stepped into the shower, sighing in bliss as the hot water eventually started to caress his body, kissing his bruises and scars and hauling him in warmth. The cold liquid of soap felt cool against his skin and he felt it running down his back – another sigh left his thin lips.

And as the water stopped pouring down on him and his wet hair stuck to his forehead, he wrapped a simple towel around his hips. His bare skin was greeted by a gush of cold air, but he ignored the goosebumps that slowly appeared and just picked up the clothes from the floor. With another soft click the door opened again and the blonde peeked gingerly through the small gap, which showed only empty space and closed doors. So he left the bathroom and hurried into Minho’s room, carefully trying to hide some of the blue marks on his wrists.

_Newt never liked the feeling of showing too much skin – especially not when it was bruised and unsightly. He didn’t like the feeling of people seeing him hurt, seeing him cry. It only made the feel of weakness increase._

He let his gaze travel across Minho’s room – the walls painted in a fresh mint green, clothes draped across the dark carpet and his running shoes shoved under the small gap of his wardrobe. The blonde smiled.

 

_„Minho, you should really tidy up your room some time.“ Newt had giggled, warm and joyful._

_A shook of the other’s head had followed. „Only a genius beats the chaos.“_

_„Yeah, but you always need like twenty minutes to find matching socks.“_

 

He pulled on fresh clothes, all somehow dusted with Minho’s own fragrance – sweet, like coffee with just enough sugar. And suddenly Newt felt warm, he felt secure and ready to take a nap in a bed of clouds.

And as he finally shambled down the stairs and entered the kitchen, Minho’s back turned to him, he wanted nothing more than just to bury himself in the other’s arms for one more time and close his eyes without another thought. Because he wanted it to stay that way, easy and casual.

„Oh– you’re here.“ Minho turned to look at Newt, a tender smile on his plump lips. He held a mug inside his right hand and for a moment he observed the blonde secretly, his dark eyes flickering from point to point, head to toe. „And I see you’re wearing my favourite sweatpants.“

Newt felt a bit shy suddenly, a blush tinting his cheeks as he smiled at his best friend.

„Don’t worry. You know I always thought you wore them better.“ and just then Newt responded with a soft chuckle, the tips of his ears turning red. And when he looked at Minho, the boy was already looking back at him, fondly smiling.

Newt changed the subject. „Where are your parents actually?“ he asked while taking a seat at the simple, wooden dining table.

A sigh fell from Minho’s lips. „They’re meeting up with some of their friends or something like that.“ he placed the two mugs on the table. Newt’s was still slightly steaming, the scent of cinnamon infatuating him immediately. „Tried to drag me with them. Said that their friends had a beautiful daughter I could meet, but I declined.“

Newt tensed slightly, taking a small sip of the tea to hide his disappointment. It tasted sweet on his tongue and seemed just like a loving kiss to his lips. „Ya not interested?“ he asked casually.

And Minho said „No.“ before smiling at Newt for another time.

And just like that silence greeted the two boys again – Minho only seeming to look at his blonde best friend while said one took gulp after gulp of the tea in the hope of swallowing his nervousness.

„Oh, before I forget – your phone had been ringing like ten times, but I didn’t pick up. I mean– it’s probably something, uh, private.“ the black haired boy uttered, lips pressed closely to the rim of the cup inside his hands.

Newt felt his eyes widen and sunk lower into his chair. ‚Ethan was probably worrying‘, he thought, ‚He must be very mad by now‘.

„I guess it was Ethan, right?“ Minho’s voice brought Newt back to reality and his eyes snapped nervously to Minho’s. He took another sip of his tea. „You can call him back, if you want, you know.“

And for a second Newt thought that’d only be too risky, but then he noticed, not doing it would bring him in way more danger. So he slowly stood up and rummaged through his bag, which laid on the kitchen counter. With every second passing he just hoped he’d never find his phone but just in the next brief moment he felt it cool against his hand.

**_12 missed calls, 5 new messages._ **

Panic pumped through Newt’s veins and with trembling fingers and sweaty palms he dialed his boyfriend’s number.

The familiar toot rang inside his ears. And then–

„Where the hell are you?“

Newt gulped thickly, throwing a quick glance at Minho, who seemed to be occupied with the patterns that adorned his mug. „I’m at home.“ he lied, but he couldn’t help but think about Minho’s arms being a home to him.

„I’ll come and pick you up.“ the firm voice resounded through the phone.

And now Newt was terrified. „No!“ he said, loud and rushed. „I mean, you don’t need to, Ethan. My mom wanted to go grocery shopping with me just now.“ and, oh, he was so caught up in all those lies.

There was a short moment of silence. Newt felt his heart hammer hard against his chest, so hard he was afraid it could crush his bones.

„Newt.“ Ethan said, voice slow, almost like a growl. „Where are you?“

Newt felt the oxygen caught inside his throat and he knew the truth would drive the other insane, but it only had the purpose of keeping him alive. „I– I’m a-at Minho’s place.“ he choked out eventually and as the silence once again welcomed his ears, his lower lip started to quiver. „But I swear nothing happened, Ethan. I just– we did homework together and I-I really wanted to call you, b-but my phone died and I–“

And just then the line went dead.

His heart was racing miserably now, his body shook violently – palms embroidered with cold sweat and lips dry. Oh god, – he was so afraid.

„Minho?“ his voice was just above a whisper.

But the other heard it anyway. „Is everything alright?“ Minho asked in return.

„I don’t know.“ the blonde uttered, his voice scratchy and the fear visible inside his bright eyes.

And Newt could tell the other wasn’t sure how to handle this situation, but it was okay because neither did he.

„What …“ he heard Minho clear his throat uncomfortably, „What did he say?“

Newt’s eyes darted to the kitchen counter, his fingertips caressed its surface. „I think he’ll come and pick me up.“ he answered, not even daring to look the other in the eye.

And Newt knew Ethan was going to show up at Minho’s doorstep – he’d come and take Newt with him and everything would be like it was just yesterday. And Newt knew his boyfriend still remembered the way to Minho’s house, he remembered it from the times he had parked his car close to the flower beds and took Newt on corny dates afterwards.

„You can just stay here, you know. I could bring you home later or you can even sleep here! I mean, I’d always sleep on the couch–“ but before Minho could go on, Newt interrupted him.

„I can’t.“ he said. „I can’t stay.“

And they looked at eachother, eyes sad and full of sorrow and guilt. _What had happened to their bond? Where did their inseparability go?_

„Just because Ethan is your boyfriend, doesn’t mean he can go and determine every single step you take, Newt.“ Minho said and the blonde could hear him gain temper.

But even though Newt knew his friend was right, he couldn’t bring himself to agree or –god forbid– stand up to Ethan. He just couldn’t do it.

„Just because he is your boyfriend, doesn’t mean he has the shucking right to keep you to only himself. You know that’s not the way it works.“ Minho spoke, voice determined and making Newt frown.

It wasn’t fair. Minho couldn’t mess everything up just now – not when Newt had finally accepted the love Ethan gave to him. Minho’s voice made several others erupt inside the blonde’s head and they were so loud and so forceful, Newt could feel his mind buzz. Some were screaming at him, telling him, Ethan was right and Ethan would always love him just okay – but others growled loudly and they told the blonde, Minho was right. Minho had finally spoken the words that had winded themselves in between his head for so long now and maybe it was time to listen to them eventually.

„I may not know much about love, but I sure as hell know, that some people are poison and I won’t stand idly by as Ethan destroys you.“

Newt looked at the other, eyes wide and expression astounded. And suddenly Minho stood in front of him, broad shoulders and a piercing gaze hitting Newt’s. The blonde would’ve liked nothing more in that moment than to just burry his nose in the crook of Minho’s neck, his hands grasping the boy’s shoulder blades and his cold and emptiness being replaced by just warmth.

But he heard himself whisper, guilt draining his voice and nearly dazing his tongue; „I can’t leave him.“

And he felt Minho’s warmth coming closer, he felt the boy’s fingertips brushing oh so softly against his own. „Why not?“ the black haired boy whispered back.

„Because …“ Newt thought about an answer. ‚Because he loves me the way you never would‘; ‚Because I’m afraid to be all alone‘; ‚Oh, because this love may break me, but a life without love at all would kill me, Minho‘. „Because I need him.“

Minho looked at Newt and the breath left his lips heavy and sluggish. „But you’ve got Thomas – you’ve got Teresa and Alby and Gally. You’ve got Ben, your mom and me. Newt you’ll always have me.“

There were tears prickling in the corners of Newt‘s eyes. „Don’t say that.“ he said, voice trembling slightly. ‚Don’t make it so hard‘, he thought, ‚don’t make me love you more‘.

And then there was a knock at the front door – a loud one.

Newt felt the panic rush through his blood again and he left Minho behind, walking towards the closed door.

„Why shouldn’t I? It is the truth, Newt.“ Minho replied, raising his voice so the blonde could hear him clearly and following him close.

And when the door was finally open (Newt already dressed in his jacket and shoes), there were three boys standing close to eachother. Ethan’s eyes flickered furiously from Newt to Minho and back to Newt, Minho’s gaze travelled from the blonde to said one’s boyfriend and immediately his expression hardened – and Newt, well, he could only look at the dirty tips of his shoes.

„Come on, Newt, we’ll go.“ Ethan spoke up suddenly, but his eyes seemed to be only attached to Minho, green eyes like a thousand daggers.

Newt shouldered his bag, head bowed, and he was just about to step through the doorstep, when Minho held him back, his arm forming a barrier. „May I ask where exactly you wanna take him?“ the Asian boy asked, tone deceptively kind.

Ethan took hold of Newt’s hand. „No, you may not.“ and with these words he tried to pull the blonde with him, but yet again Minho seemed to be the only blockade. Newt didn’t know if he wanted to cry or smile.

„This is my boyfriend and wherever I’m gonna take him, is and will be just our business, okay? So please start acting like your actual age and stop butting in.“ Ethan’s voice was harsh, his grip around Newt’s hand now growing stronger. The blonde flinched only a little bit.

„Right, he is your boyfriend – not your slave, not your punching bag and for fuck’s sake not your property.“ Minho spit out as if his words were a chewing gum that had lost its flavor and now Newt decided; he desperately wanted to cry. Minho shouldn’t stand up for him, he shouldn’t stand up to Ethan. It was too dangerous and Newt would never forgive himself if he brought the other into danger.

„Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?“ Ethan took a step closer to Minho, letting go of Newt’s hand. His eyes gleamed with a flame of anger and Newt knew the boy’s blood was practically boiling by now.

„Ethan, stop.“ he tried to soothe him, his voice soft and his palm pressed tenderly to his boyfriend’s chest.

But he should’ve known better. „Don’t fucking touch me!“ a hard smack followed and Newt felt his right cheek burning. A surprised gasp left his lips. It may hadn’t been the first time of Ethan slapping him, but it was the first time someone saw him doing it and now Newt felt so small, so worthless, all at once.

Minho’s eyes went wide and then realization hit him. „Do that one more time and I’ll cut off every single shucking finger you have.“ he warned while taking Newt’s wrist gently to guide the blonde behind himself – out of reach of Ethan.

„Are you trying to resemble a hero here? Mind your own shit and take your hands off of my boyfriend.“ and now Ethan finally lost his temper, his chest bumped into Minho’s as he looked the other straight in the eyes. He was just the slightest bit taller than Minho, but that surely wouldn’t scare the Asian boy away.

„Sorry, big boy, but if it’s Newt’s business it’ll also turn into mine.“ Minho answered, a provocatively smile on his lips that made the corners of his eyes crinkle softly.

Ethan huffed. „Very cute, but he sadly isn’t yours, right?“

„Neither is he yours.“ Minho shot back and Newt hid behind his best friend’s broad shoulders. He saw his fists chlench.

„Oh? Who is the one, who fucks him at night?“ Ethan pretended to think hard before he turned to look at Minho again. „Ah, right. That’s me.“

„Don’t talk about him like that. He’s not your toy.“ Minho shouted suddenly, face flushed with anger.

Ethan chuckled slowly. „Sometimes I even fuck him in the morning–“ oh, Newt had never seen this side of the boy before, but he didn’t know if he could handle another side of Ethan’s personality.

„Stop.“ Minho growled.

„– fucking him until he’s crying and–“ but Ethan couldn’t go further, because there was already a fist connecting with his nose, a crack tearing apart the silence. Newt whimpered under his breath and shut his eyes tight.

„I dare you to come close to him again and I will break your ribs.“ Newt heard Minho snarl sharply at Ethan.

„Seems like you‘re just pathetically jealous.“ Ethan wiped his nose, a trace of blood getting caught on the sleeve of his sweater. „Is that true? Huh?“ he punched Minho in the guts and Newt watched his best friend arch painfully. „Do you have wet dreams about your best friend? About my boyfriend?“ And another hit.

Minho’s breathing became heavier and he threw himself at the slightly taller one, knocking Ethan off of his feet. „I’ll wreck your ugly face.“ Minho yelled this time and Newt was near to having a panic attack as the Asian boy started punching Ethan straight in the face, again and again.

This had to stop – but how?

„Stop it!“ Newt tried to break them apart, his voice as loud as lightning and his eyes darting from one boy to the other uneasily – but nothing happened and this time Ethan landed a few hits. „Ethan, stop! Stop it!“ but it didn’t help.

Newt couldn’t breath anymore, his lungs seemed tight, filled with panic lying on them and fear weighing the oxygen down. His fingers grasped the phone inside his pocket and he pressed the first number he could think of.

„Newt?“ the blonde sighed shakily as the familiar voice rung suddenly from the other end of the line.

„Alby, you– you have to come to Minho’s place. Now!“ Newt wept eventually and he knew Alby could hear the anxiety filling his voice.

„I’m coming! What happened?“ the blonde heard quiet shuffling from the other end.

But he couldn’t answer now. „No questions! You gotta hurry!“ and when he heard the final signal that the call was ended there was a bit of reassurance blooming inside his chest and it was everything he needed in that moment.

He knew Alby didn’t live far away from Minho, he knew Alby would find the fastest way. Because Alby had always been reliable and Newt wanted to cry because his old friend was helping him. Alby was helping him even though Newt had isolated himself and pushed them all away. He was pathetic, a bad friend – he didn’t deserve any of it – but he was so grateful.

 

And when Alby arrived, his dark eyes flickering from Newt’s shaking body to the scene in front of Minho’s doorstep, he acted quickly. Alby tore both boys apart from eachother, their battle cries dying down finally.

„Don’t fucking touch me, asshole!“ Ethan was the first to protest and violently he shoved Alby away from himself, eyes burning holes into Minho’s.

„Don’t call me asshole, asshole.“ the dark skinned boy shot back, fist curling up inside the fabric of Ethan’s collar to stop him from running straight at Minho again. „I don’t know what both of you twits did, but it has ended right now.“

„He has fantasies about my boyfriend!“ Ethan announced loudly while he nodded his head in Minho’s direction. Said boy wore a hard expression, his lip bruised and nose bleeding.

Minho didn’t say anything. All he did was throwing burning glares at Ethan and Newt felt so uncomfortable again. It was his fault it all led to this and he couldn’t even bring himself to look anyone in the eyes.

„He probably jerks off to the thought of him as well.“ another comment coming from Ethan’s direction and this time Alby slapped the back of the boy’s head harshly.

„Shut the fuck up for a second, will ya?“ and he was actually successful, because there wasn’t another sound leaving Ethan’s lips. Alby looked at Minho then. „Minho?“ he asked, „What happened?“

Newt lifted up his head slowly, surprised to see Minho looking straight back at him instead of Alby. Oh, how it tore at his broken little heart to see the boy like this – hair a black mess, skin showing fresh wounds from the fight and his dark eyes suddenly so sad and tired.

Minho’s eyes seemed to whisper sweet apologies only for the blonde boy before he finally looked at Alby. „I wanted to end Newt’s suffering, no more.“ he responded clearly.

But Ethan was going crazy again. „What suffering? Newt’s and my relationship is none of your business.“ he snarled, jaw clenched tight.

„What did I say about talking?“ Alby raised his hand again, giving the slightly taller boy another clap on the back of his head. Ethan growled slowly but Alby ignored him and signaled Minho to continue.

„Ethan was becoming abusive towards Newt and I’m sure it wasn’t the first time, too. I think it’s quite understandable that I wanted to demolish his nasty face.“ and as those words slipped off Minho’s tongue eventually, there was Alby’s shocked expression facing Newt’s ashamed one and for a moment the blonde was afraid Alby would attack Ethan as well.

Alby turned to Ethan, eyes glowing dangerously – oh, Newt never knew someone would actually care, he never knew his relationship had actually been this awful. „Have you hurt Newt?“ the dark skinned boy asked.

Ethan only found a lack of words – he couldn’t bring himself to answer.

„I asked you something.“ Alby growled loudly, but instead of getting Ethan to answer it was Newt, who interrupted the tension.

„He did!“ the blonde wept terribly, his gaze darting from Ethan to Alby and back to Ethan before fixating on Alby again. „Yes, he did, but he did it because he loves me, Alby, it was because he is afraid and I– I don’t … I don’t expect you to understand, but–“

Minho’s voice cut him off. „No, I don’t understand, Newt. I don’t fucking understand and I’m pretty sure neither does Alby.“ Newt’s gaze flickered to Minho’s, eyes wide and helpless. „Want to explain it to us?“

„I…“ Newt couldn’t bring himself to speak, his eyes glued to his best friend’s expectant face. The blonde felt so defenseless all at once – all the reasons to love Ethan he had collected over the time seemed to be gone, blown away like dusty desert sand.

Alby didn’t dare to let go of Ethan’s collar now, but his voice was soft and gentle as he told the blonde: „Newt, you have to listen to me now, okay?“ and Newt only nodded before the other continued, „I don’t really now what has happened between you and Ethan, but no-one ever hurts others out of love. No matter how many times he’ll tell you–“

„You don’t know anything! Newt, don’t listen to him!“ Ethan interrupted Alby, but soon there was a hard smack greeting the back of his head again.

„When there’s someone who shouldn’t open their shucking mouth then that’s definitely you.“ Alby growled, before he began to repeat his words again, this time without any interruptions. „As I said, no matter how many times he’ll tell you he loves you, hurting you will never be an act of love and it will never be something other than selfish.“

Newt could only look at Alby and his mind kept spinning, because all this time he had been so sure Ethan loved him, loved him so much that his fear of losing Newt had led him to such a dark path. Sure, some times Newt had asked himself if this was what love should really be like, but whenever Ethan had kissed him he forgot those thoughts.

And now he stood in front of the boy he loved and the boy he tried to love just as much for so long. Ethan looked at him with sad eyes and maybe he knew that their relationship only hung on a single thread and maybe he knew Minho would cut it in two and snatch Newt out of his claws.

„Newt, this kind of relationship isn’t good for you, you know it. Don’t let it keep going like that. Also you don’t have to fear being along, okay? Alby is there for you and so are Teresa, Thomas, Ben and Gally – And I am here, too. I will always protect you. He can’t harm you anymore.“ Minho murmured softly and just like that the dark clouds seemed to disappear inside Newt’s head and now he knew he only needed Minho – Minho would make the rain go away, for sure, he’d make purple bruises look like harmless watercolour and kiss the hurt better.

Newt bumped into Minho’s body and wrapped his arms tightly around the other’s warm waist, his face buried in the fabric of Minho’s stained shirt. And Minho only embraced the blonde, squeezing his slim body tightly against his own.

„Nothing can harm you anymore.“ he murmured quietly into the boy’s honey hair and Newt felt secure. Finally he found himself believing, his heart lifted high and hopes blooming inside his chest. Minho would make it all better.

„I can’t believe this! Is that some kind of hint you’re breaking up with me? After all I’ve done for you? After all the promises you’d love me, and only me, no matter what, Newt?“ Ethan’s voice was ringing shrill and sharp, but Newt didn’t turn to look at him. His eyes were shut tightly and all he felt was Minho’s thumb caressing his hair.

„I think it was pretty clear what he was hinting at and I hope you know, that it’s time for you to actually pay for all the shit you’ve already caused. – You’re coming with me.“ and in that very moment the blonde couldn’t have been any happier to hear Alby’s voice ending Ethan’s shouting.

But as soon as Ethan’s voice was completely drowned out and all Newt could sense was the scent of a bittersweet farewell, there was Minho tenderly bringing the blonde back to reality.

„Come on, I’ll make you another tea.“ he said lovingly and Newt almost felt sad as Minho’s body left his but as soon as he felt the boy’s hand capturing his, this sadness faded immediately.

Newt followed Minho back inside, taking off his jacket and shoes again and taking a seat at the kitchen table. It was still hard to realize what had happened just a few minutes ago and many thoughts passed and circled inside Newt’s mind. But Minho’s sight made him calm down again, the sweet scent of steaming tea whirring around the boys‘ heads and numbing the blonde’s senses.

Minho placed the two mugs of tea on the table, Newt mumbling a soft thank you. He then watched the Asian boy press an ice pack to his wounded temple and hiss at the contact accordingly.

„You should clean the wound first.“ Newt commented quietly, attracting the other’s whole attention.

Minho stared a bit densely. „I– what?“

„Clean the, uh, wound first.“ Newt repeated his words, but he didn’t get the desired response, so he stood up to get a wet cloth. Minho’s eyes seemed to burn holes into the blonde’s back and with a shy smile Newt sat back down infront of the other, so close their knees were touching. Carefully he wiped the blood off of Minho’s temple, making the boy hiss silently in return as he watched the blonde with curious eyes.

„Sorry.“ Newt whispered quietly, completely concentrating on the wound.

„It was worth it, though.“ Minho muttered and Newt almost didn’t hear it – almost.

His eyes flickered to Minho’s for a brief moment. „You shouldn’t have done that.“ he said.

„Yeah I should’ve just let him keep hurting you – great idea!“

„That’s not what I meant and you know it.“ he pressed the cloth to Minho’s nose. The boy flinched slightly.

„Why did you let him do that?“ Minho asked suddenly, making Newt nearly lose the cloth inside his hand.

He froze. „What do you mean?“

„I mean, why did you let him treat you that way?“

Newt‘s movement became slower as he wiped some dried blood off of his friend’s nose – carefully and gentle. „You wouldn‘t understand.“ he answered, avoiding the other’s eyes.

Minho huffed. „Probably true.“ he murmured annoyed.

The blonde only sighed. „You only saw this side of him – …you– you didn’t see his caring side. You didn’t– you didn’t see what made me love him.“

And then Minho fell silent for a moment, Newt cleaning his lower lip and wiping away some dried blood. He could’ve sworn he heard Minho’s mind rattling.

„You really loved him, huh?“ the boy asked unexpectedly, voice weighed down by slight frustration.

Newt turned to look at Minho and nearly he told him, ‚No, I could never love one like I love you‘ but he stopped himself and murmured: „Yeah, I did. He wasn’t always like that, you know. He used to be so – tender and … and loving. I couldn’t leave him – not when he was everything I had left.“

„But why would you think he was everything when you had so much more?“ Minho asked, eyes firmly anchored with Newt’s. „Why would you put him above all of your friends?“

„I never– I mean, I–“ a sigh fell from his lips. „I don’t know. I just don’t know.“ he lowered his hand, the cloth pressing softly to his tigh. „I never knew it was so wrong, Minho. I never knew what love could lead to.“

They looked at eachother. „You just haven’t experienced the right love yet.“ Minho said then and his words made Newt want to cry. He wanted to shed all the bitter tears that Ethan had brought and replace them with fresh air. He wanted to inhale the spring and feel buttercups bloom inside his lungs.

„I don’t even know what right love is.“

And then he felt Minho’s fingers tenderly wrap around his wrist – a touch as light as the flapping of butterflies. „I could show you.“ he mumbled and his words made Newt’s heart skip a beat, jumping excited. His bright eyes met Minho’s.

He tried to form words, just so a sound would leave his lips, but nothing came and soon it wasn’t even necessary. Because Minho’s lips were already capturing his and their eyes were shut tight as if they were afraid the magic could disappear by looking at it. And their lips moved in sync and Newt felt fireflies dancing inside his stomach, lighting up his heart and buzzing inside his head.

Minho’s hands cupped Newt’s flushed cheeks. They didn’t dare to break apart, too occupied in the feeling of fresh love blossoming inside their hearts and swelling desire to be finally fulfilled. Newt wrapped his arms around the other’s neck, pulling himself closer to him, and he felt his body shiver under the sensation of Minho’s kisses.

 

_„Have you ever kissed someone?“ the small blonde had asked, cheeks tinted red out of embarrassment._

_The other had shook his head violently. „Kisses are gross.“ he had said, scrunching up his nose in disgust._

 

„Love me right, Minho.“ it almost sounded like a hopeless whisper, breathy and broken, as he murmured against the other’s lips.

And Minho only kissed him harder, trying to pull the blonde even closer – hands touching his back, his arms, his thighs. Newt nearly sat inside Minho’s lap and now Minho heaved him up, his arms supporting the boy’s weight. The blonde instantly wrapped his legs around the other’s waist, cupping his jaw and kissing him stormily, hot breath mixing up.

Minho propped up his hands on the kitchen table, knocking over one of the mugs and spilling a bit tea over the wood. He stumbled slightly, steps uneasy and almost blind, as he carried the blonde boy out of the kitchen. His hands took hold of the stair railing and gracelessly he stumbled up the steps.

Newt broke apart from the other for a brief moment, clinging to the built boy. „I can’t believe this is happening.“ he murmured as a soft, breathy laugh fell from his lips.

And as Minho reached his room, fiddling with the doorknob as Newt could only laugh once more, he said: „Yeah, I have waited so long for this.“

He laid Newt down on the mattress of his bed softly, hovering above him. „Therefore I will make sure to let you feel all of my love.“ he added and the he dipped his head down to connect his lips with Newt’s again. And Newt would’ve never imagined Minho to taste like peppermint and ginger, like a sweet touch of his favourite tea. It was addictive – it was so good, so dangerously good.

„I will make you forget about all and everything.“ Minho breathed huskily in the other’s ear, this time pressing gentle kisses to Newt’s temple, to his jaw and along his neck.

And it felt just like a dream to Newt, like a blurry row of polaroids and sounds, like touches wrapped in dense fog. He closed his eyes, concentrating only on the touches he felt burning his skin. He concentrated on the tingling spreading throughout his whole body, on the kisses slowly travelling down his neck.

„Newt.“ Minho’s soft voice brought him back to reality and slowly he turned to look at the black haired boy. He saw his split lower lip, he saw his bruised skin and, god, he was so beautiful. „I want you to stop me when you feel like I’m going too far, okay?“

Newt smiled. „Make me forget it all, Minho.“ his thumb caressed Minho’s lower lip, „Help me feel true love – help me lose my mind.“

And Minho just kissed his skin once more, peeling off the boy’s sweater and revealing the milky skin dotted with blue and purple bruises. Newt felt the boy’s eyes burn on his naked torso just like hands stroking his skin up and down, but before he could feel the shame bubbling inside his stomach, there were the softest butterfly kisses covering his bruises. Minho’s lips occupied the hurt and Newt swore he could feel them disappear slowly.

„He didn’t deserve you.“ Newt heard Minho mutter. „Not even one bit.“

Minho kissed the boy’s naked skin, his tongue slowly drawing along Newt’s stomach. The blonde threw his head back, blonde locks falling in his sight.

Minho opened Newt’s jeans, the sound of the zipper breaking through the tension. „I won’t ever let him touch you again.“ he pulled them down achingly slow until they fell to the ground with a soft thump, „He won’t ever hurt you again.“

Newt closed his eyes, his breath hitching inside his throat as he felt Minho lips attach to his inner thighs. A low moan rolled off his tongue, Minho biting and nibbling on his sensitive skin, leaving marks and bruises of only pleasure and affection. The black haired boy licked along the bitten spots, kissing the inside of Newt’s thighs before his fingertips eventually brushed along the waistband of the boy’s boxers.

„I’ll make you feel so good, Newt – so good.“ Minho murmured hotly and before Newt could even open his eyes the boy had already lost his own trousers. The fabric sunk to the ground and Newt watched Minho fumble hastily with the buttons of his shirt, cursing silently under his breath when they didn’t seem to open.

The blonde released a soft laugh, sitting up. „C’mere, loser.“ Newt muttered lovingly while he signaled Minho to come closer. Said boy slowly crawled back on top of the blonde’s stretched out legs, a small pout forming on his plump lips.

With careful fingers Newt unbuttoned the boy’s shirt before he pulled it off of his body, the fabric falling down his broad shoulders and sinking to the mattress. Newt’s mind buzzed, the sight of Minho making him feel dizzy and foolishly lovestruck – a feeling he decided felt good inside his stomach.

„You make me crazy.“ Minho’s voice was just above a whisper, but before Newt could answer there were already full lips back on his and the butterflies stormed his head once more. Teeth were clittering and tongues fighting, sucking sounds and biting lips until they were swolen.

Newt couldn’t tell what was happening. Everything seemed to occur just like thunder and shudders of desire and glowing touches. He could’ve sworn Minho’s fingertips left flames on his skin. Minho’s body was pressed against Newt’s, every inch of their naked skin covered by the other’s – warm and fiery.

And when Minho’s tongue travelled once again from spot to spot on the blonde’s skin, there was sigh after sigh of bliss leaving Newt’s cherry lips. He felt Minho suck on his collarbone, then his tongue dipped shortly inside Newt’s belly button, then it sunk lower right to his–

„Ahh, Minho.“ Newt moaned loudly, eyes squeezing shut tightly and head falling back, as the other boy scattered kisses across the blonde’s shaft.

„What? You like that?“ the kisses turned into slow licks and Newt was so close to losing his mind.

His breathing became heavier. „Pl-Please…“ he begged. Newt begged, but for what – he wasn’t quite sure.

He felt the longing for pleasure nearly blowing up his senses, but before Minho’s actions could drive him even more insane, the boy stopped. Slowly Minho crawled back on top of Newt, stealing a short kiss from his parted lips.

„Let me love you better.“ he heard Minho mutter, his breath hot and numbing.

Newt closed his eyes. He heard quiet shuffling, heard Minho reaching for something in his drawer. And before the blonde knew it he felt Minho’s hands grip his hips, cool lube against his skin.

And when Newt opened his eyes again he saw Minho hovering right above him, black hair a tousled mess and his dark eyes trained on him. The boy kissed Newt’s lips.

„You’re so beautiful.“ Newt heard him whisper and just then he felt Minho inside of him – the sensation firstly a bit painful, but then so good, so very good. Like a shadow it passed the blonde, their bodies connected, their hearts beating fast and in a whole new rhythm.

It seemed as if the oxygen was knocked out of his lungs all at once. Minho moved faster from second to second, thrusting into Newt’s trembling body. The blonde clung to the sheets, hips buckling upwards to meet Minho’s, moans ringing louder and louder.

„Fuck, Newt.“ Minho gritted his teeth, eyes scanning the trembling mess underneath him. „You’re so, ah, beautiful.“ his lips attached to the blonde’s neck once more, sucking and nibbling while his hips moved in constant waves into Newt’s.

„Bloody shit, Minho–“ oh, the blonde was crumbling underneath him. Knots inside his stomach and tingling underneath his skin – butterflies turning into storms and taking away all sanity.

And they just seemed to move faster – faster and faster. Sloppy kisses made their breaths mix up, moans were announced loudly into the small cocoon of love they’ve built. They’re minds hovered in-between clouds and their hearts nearly burst through their chests.

„Newt, I–“ they reached their climax.

„Minho!“ both boy’s released themselves along with loud moans.

And as they bodies slowly separated eventually, their breathing was all that was heard. Newt’s chest raised and lowered, his heartbeat never seeming to slow down again – adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

His skin was covered in small droplets of sweat and his honey hair stuck wetly against his forehead. The colour of his cheeks brimmed warmly, lips matching with their red tint.

„I shucking love you.“ Minho’s words seemed to cut the mildness and Newt’s wide eyes darted to Minho’s flushed face. „I mean it. I’m so in love with you.“

And it was different somehow to hear those words now. Sometimes they had scared Newt, but they seemed good now – better. He felt their effect on him like fresh leaves of grass between his toes, so soft and supple.

„I love you, too.“ Newt answered and he was so sure about it. Yes, he loved Minho. He loved Minho with all he had and all he will ever have.

Minho wrapped his arms around the blonde then, his fingertips curling around Newt’s sides. Newt pressed a loving kiss to his bruised temple.

 

_And it was okay. It was okay that Newt still felt the broken pieces of his soul poking his ribcage, because he knew with Minho’s help he could try to stick them together as a whole again. It was okay that his past still rummaged inside his head and tried to poke his heart with dirty hands, because he knew the future would soon be able to make it all disappear. It was okay that Newt’s mask had cracked, because he wouldn’t need one anymore. It was okay – Newt knew._

 

„Hey, Newt?“ Minho’s voice was just a hushed whisper.

Newt hummed in return. „Yeah?“

„What about another tea?“ – and Newt only laughed.

 

_Love didn’t seem so frightening anymore._

 


End file.
